Coming Back Home
by Midwich Cuckoo
Summary: A Vazdru princess comes back to the realm of demons, Druhim Vanashta, from a long exile.


„ **Coming Back Home"**

 **Disclaimer:** I have no rights to anything written by Tanith Lee, unfortunately. I hit upon the idea for this story one morning when I was lying in bed and decided to give it a try soon after, delving into the world of the Flat Earth, once more coming back to Druhim Vanashta. I want to thank to Humingbird The Transformer who was the beta of mine for this story I hope you will like.

The heavy eyelids of the Vazdru princess, painted silver, fluttered. The strikingly beautiful woman whose somehow predatory charm could be compared only with the gorgeousness of a leopard hunting under the moon emerging in its pale majesty from dark hills, until then lying motionlessly on a canopy bed sat so seemingly out of place in the midst of an extensive garden, at the center of which a fountain spewing scarlet fire played, she let out a low moan. She hesitantly opened her eyes framed with long black eyelashes – very big and strangely silver no human woman could have, and at this very moment expressing nothing but boundless astonishment at the situation, so new to her, in which she found herself so unexpectedly. Just a mere moment before, she was lying in a completely different bed, seemingly not feeling too well, as no Azhrarn's demon could have ever felt, almost... almost as if she was going to die. But no, it was just a mere illusion; no Underearth demon could ever die like mortals dwelling in the world above the realm of the Prince of Demons. 

It was just those, who subjected to death and were going to enter the mysterious kingdom of Uhlume; the place both Vazdru like herself and Eshva weren't ever going to get a chance to see. Nevertheless, she did feel like she was going to join Uhlume's place soon – or at least it was what she seemed to think she had felt – the woman's memories seemed to leave her, quite like the water in a clay jar, leaking through a hole and soon there was going to be left nothing of those. As if that life the Vazdru princess led before was going to get the status of a dream she once had but which leaves her never to return to one who only knows they did have a dream but nothing more. 

The woman rose on her magnificent bed that, she soon noticed, resembled an exotic flower with petals the color of which matched the color of the fire behind her back, and stretched, admiring the colors and sights unknown to her. But were they really? It was indeed as if the silvery-eyed, raven-haired beauty on the canopy bed just came back from a long journey, returning to the world she rightfully belonged in, recalling the things from it she forgot during her... exile? The woman hesitantly stroked the surface of the bed. It was like it was one big flower indeed – something she never saw before.

And all of a sudden, she froze. Some soft sounds came to her ears – so soft that the Vazdru could merely hear them. Some... whispers, quite as if she wasn't alone, here in this mysterious place; alone yet not scared, more like curious and slowly getting back her memories of what place it was and who she herself really was.

The flower like bed's touch on the bared skin of the woman's slender, moon – pale arms even did feel like one of a flower indeed. Quite as if its linens weren't made of real fabric but were actually sewn up of numerous delicate petals excreting an intoxicating smell, that for a fleeting moment made the world before the woman's eyes swirl a bit. She closed her eyes again, inhaling it, as the smell was indeed bringing her back to the world she left and about which she subconsciously remembered for her entire life before she came back now – even if just in dreams that from time to time were taking her back to the dark world of those similar to her, whom she missed so much. Almost not seeing those who gathered here in front of her, encircling her canopy bed, as if greeting her; as if due to some spell that made them arrive in one short moment in here like withered autumn leaves excreting this characteristic, recognizable fall smell of cinnamon and apples, blown by the wind – their black silhouettes surrounding her bed loomed in the dusk – the woman who woke up so suddenly here in this mysterious place, not knowing when and how, got out of the bed and took a few first shaky, lunatic steps, feeling under the soles of her feet the touch of the black grass growing in the garden. 

The sight of it was in some weirdly comforting manner known to her, quite as if she was able to recall all the familiar smells and sights surrounding her. As if the Vazdru could remember them from her previous life, so poor and insignificant if compared with this one she had led before and to which she came back so suddenly and the memories of which were now returning to her suddenly; ones that did only in dreams, from which she woke up with a strange feeling of profound sadness, feeling her pillow was wet from tears.

The Vazdru princess (she knew now what the name for ones of her kind was and knew if she stayed here for a bit longer, she could recall her own name – her real one – as well – everything she needed was just staying here for longer) took comfort in the sight of the black fountain and the huge castle made of some delicately opalizing black stone, the semi-open gate of which, seemed to beckon her invitingly. The woman didn't even pay attention to the ones that were behind her back, whispering in some weird language she didn't know, yet the memories of how she used to speak it – back in some forgotten past – seemed to be bringing back to her as well, like everything else. She couldn't care less who those were – she was going to find out in the right time; time when they will answer all her questions she had so many.

What she was fully paying her attention to now, was the gate of the palace in front of her that had a particular lure to her. It was a place she used to visit back before the time that separated her from the life she was leading now, again young and beautiful, unlike what she was in the time she almost forgot now almost completely, although a new set of memories was now forming in her mind now, replacing the old ones on the life she had led before, in a completely different world she never fully belonged in. It wasn't a long distance between herself and this splendid building of black stone that didn't exist in the world she just left – this was she knew for sure. Although she couldn't recall too much from it now, as her old memories were coming back, as if the knowledge of those two worlds so different from each other, couldn't exist in the mind of one person at the same time.

The woman couldn't only recall who exactly she was – her real name and how she ended in that different place she yearned so much for – was it some... exile? Yes, she did something bad and it was her punishment from... Azhrarn? Yes, it was the name of the ruler of this place and the owner of the palace. She was going to enter it, as she did before... so many, many times back in the past. The memories seemed to unfold in front of her with every step the Vazdru took – she didn't even realize they were out there in her head that didn't contain any ones at all, before at first when she awoke – at least she did think this.

Memories of what this place was and in what way she belonged in it. Even if she couldn't recall this yet, fully. Maybe – she thought – it was everything she could think of, now – if she was going to enter the threshold of it and let her feet touch the cold black marble of the hall – she knew it looked like this inside; everything was the shades of black – the walls adorned with gold, the silk curtains – she was going to get all her memories brought back to her, finally. Her hazy, scattered memories that seemed to be behind a thick veil covering everything, were going to unite, giving her finally the answer who she was and why she was far from this fabulous place for so long. 

She took another step, stepping over a flower resembling a fluffy scarlet tarantula, assuming something like this even existed. It was the sight of a bat flying above her head from which black hair was flowing down her pale arms that caught her eye and didn't let her notice the flower that shivered for a moment, as if it was a living being that got hurt indeed, when suddenly something heavy fell on her arm. The woman froze for a moment, letting out a sharp scream that reverberated in the cool air of the eternal dusk.

The Vazdru princess turned back instantly, to face the silent gathering of those who were present at her bed before – those about whom she almost managed to forget during this short time since she saw the familiar silhouette of the palace, were now right behind her, surrounding her. Greeting her. Yes. On their faces there were those delicate, even if a bit sly smiles... smiles of someone greeting her after her coming back from a long... exile? Journey? 

"Not a journey," the man standing at her back said, smiling, as he slowly removed his hand like a white delicate dove from her arm. "Not a journey but exile, indeed" he said again, raising his finger, as if in an attempt of stressing the importance of what he just said.

The stunningly beautiful man, the beauty of whom exceeded the beauty of the moon of the Flat Earth itself, its sun (the Vazdru knew she wasn't going to see the sun anymore; it was going to be the only thing she was going to miss from the other world, the memories of which were now vanishing from her mind), the plumage of most exotic birds – everything found in the Flat Earth's deserts and cities, actually. He smiled once more. And in one single flash of his amazing smile that seemed to affect his interlocutor in some magical way, she recalled everything out of a sudden - how she was refused the law to live in the Underearth, having violated some law (a small and insignificant one, yet Azhrarn was a cruel master) and taken to another world where her soul was put in the body of a newborn baby who soon forgot her origin yet always seemed to remember the world, from which she was originally. Even if even in dreams. And stories she shared with those willing to listen to her – even if they believed those were the mere product of her imagination. Sentenced to live in a different world in a mortal body, the Vazdru came back after the death of it, again belonging in the place she was originally from, sentenced to this such a long exile by Azhrarn.

All of it she recalled – her origin she could finally admit to, her real name – one that wasn't one she used for that life that was so long – yet significantly shorter than the life of demons – but now finally passed, giving the soul of the demonic princess the chance to return to the place she wasn't allowed to come back for so long. Now she could rest. After all those years she always felt she lacked something that left a hole in her soul, the woman could finally rest, feeling blissful peace washing over her soul. 

She looked at the man – Azhrarn was his name, now she knew this; she knew everything now and the very awareness of possessing this knowledge was something wonderful that gave her the feeling of belonging to those who could finally fully understand her. She stayed silent, unsure what to say or do. 

"An exile" the man repeated once more, as if wanting this knowledge to settle down in the head of the newcomer. "You remember? You were in exile but you are here again."

She nodded.

„So you arrived in our palace and I bet you missed it like everybody who is from here."

She indeed did. Even if she didn't fully realize this. And tried to share this knowledge of this world with others, writing about it. 

"So come back to us, Tanisen." Azhrarn said, smiling in a predatory way, showing his perfect white teeth. "Your punishment has ended. You are here with us again. Finally, you are with us again, Tanisen; in that other world known as Tanith Lee."


End file.
